


today

by experimentaldragonfire



Series: tomorrow [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Introspection, Post-Canon, an absurd amount of commas, loose sequel to "tomorrow" but can be read standalone, will i ever stop writing introspective adora fics? the answer is no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:00:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24988708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/experimentaldragonfire/pseuds/experimentaldragonfire
Summary: Adora realizes, several years down the line, that she’scontent.(a snapshot of the future, and the slow acceptance of a life during peacetime)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: tomorrow [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808905
Comments: 8
Kudos: 92





	today

**Author's Note:**

> I did promise [relativius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/relativius/pseuds/relativius) that I'd write a follow-up to [tomorrow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24330205), and so that's what this is! Also, it seems that writing introspective Adora is just what I do at midnight-or-later.

Adora realizes, several years down the line, that she’s _content_.

The war is long over, Horde Prime nothing but a distant memory and his ship transformed into a landmark that the youngest children of Etheria take for granted. The influence of the Horde across the galaxy is, still, being repaired—but by now, there are plenty of people out amongst the stars, working together to fix what had been torn to shreds in the pursuit of an empire, both by the Horde and, before that, (Adora thinks, still with a twinge of guilt) by the First Ones.

They had returned to Etheria when they felt the mending of the universe would be able to continue under its own momentum—not without much protesting, as Adora still had a tendency to try and take responsibility for fixing everything, for using her powers as She-Ra for the greater good above herself, and no matter how many planets they restored magic to, the thought of how many hundreds more there were, still out there, left her trembling between the sheets of her narrow bed on the spaceship, cold despite the carefully-regulated temperature and extra blankets that Catra had dragged in from the storage closet across the hall.

Still, eventually, Adora had to admit there was more work to be done than she would ever be able to manage, even with Bow and Glimmer and Catra by her side, and they had turned their focus towards teaching others to carry on their work, and to pass on the knowledge, and to create with many people what they had begun with only four. And so, the Best Friend Squad had set aside their spacesuits, parked the ship in the gardens of Brightmoon Castle, and settled back into their lives.

It isn’t exactly how Adora had pictured it, during those moments deep in the planet’s core, surrounded by corrupting green and the resignation to her fate. She had never, after all, been granted the power of prophecy amongst her multitude of abilities as the Princess of Power. But it’s routine, and it’s _home_ , and she takes a certain amount of comfort in that.

She and Catra don’t live in the palace, having agreed after a few months that they still feel as though the building is too open, too exposed, too large. Instead, they enlist Bow’s help in putting together a house at the edge of the Whispering Woods, with a view of the Moonstone and a vegetable patch out front. The vegetables almost never survive to be harvested, as Melog is more concerned with lazing in the sun and smothering Catra and Adora in their sleep than driving away the wildlife that graze on them, but Adora can’t bring herself to mind too much.

They spend some days helping with the Fright Zone recuperation efforts, methodically dismantling the harsh metal architecture and planting trees and bushes in its stead. They spend others reconnecting with old friends, hearing the latest tales of arson from Sea Hawk and Mermista, while in the background Scorpia cooks dinner and Perfuma arranges the table.

(They still spend some days with all the lights off and the curtains drawn, huddled together with no space between them, as scenes from the war flash through Catra’s mind and Adora’s fingers clench around the phantom memory of her old sword handle)

Still, eventually, Adora realizes that it’s been years since she’s last fought anyone, seriously; her old training routine fallen by the wayside when her and Catra had moved into their cottage, her once-defined muscles allowed to soften out with age and peacetime. Catra has long since abandoned her skintight, easy-to-move-in clothing, instead donning more loose linens and growing her hair out to hang around her shoulders—Adora thinks she’s only grown more stunning with the passing of time, despite Catra’s complaints of grey hairs in her tail.

They are both older, mellower, _comfortable_.

And even after that, once Etheria-as-it-is has almost ceased to be a novelty, once they’d found themselves repurposing the guest bedrooms of their cottage to house their new, permanent residents, once the children had grown and left to pursue their own adventure (never having known a time when Etheria was not at peace, when armies stormed the land, when thick smog blanketed half the landscape), Adora thinks back upon how everything had turned out and realizes that even if she could change anything, she wouldn’t.

She sits, in the wicker chair on the front porch, Melog at her feet and Catra curled up on the bench across from her, and places a hand to her chest, where the faint white lines still illustrate, after all these years, the place where the failsafe had burnt itself into her skin. She lets her mind wander to how desperate she’d been for everyone to be safe, to be _happy_ , without thinking how she might have fit into the picture.

Adora knows, now, that being self-sacrificing isn’t an answer, isn’t the ultimate solution to all the universe’s problems. She knows that healing takes time, takes work, for planets as well as people. And she knows that finally, after everything, she’s reached the place she’s supposed to be.

She lets her eyes fall on Catra, feels a smile spread across her face as she realizes that her wife has fallen asleep in the evening sunshine, and can’t imagine a world where this isn’t exactly what she’s always wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> For behind-the-scenes fic rambles, follow [experimentaldragonfire-fics](http://experimentaldragonfire-fics.tumblr.com) on tumblr--or just follow my [main blog](http://experimentaldragonfire.tumblr.com). Thanks for reading! :)


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